


Come What May

by AerisLei



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Camgirl, Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Communication Failure, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Nightmares, Past Child Abuse, Past Relationship(s), Questionable consent for pictures, Questionable pictures, Sibling Reunion, Trust Issues, victor has Issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-17
Updated: 2017-07-30
Packaged: 2018-12-01 18:59:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11492652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AerisLei/pseuds/AerisLei
Summary: Everyone who's ever been friends with Viktor hasn't taken long to figure out that he just doesn't talk about things. His past is a mystery, and several of his past relationships have learned that trying to discover what lies beneath ends in Viktor shutting them out entirely. Viktor is aware of this as a major failure, he's aware that he's ruined many relationships because of it - but he can't seem to help it. Trusting people that close doesn't come easily to him.Unfortunately it seems that the past is intent on catching up with him - will he throw everything he's built with Yuuri away in order to protect his secrets? Or will he finally let someone underneath the sunny persona to see the storm that rages underneath?"Why do you have this?""It used to be a favorite of mine. My mother used to read it to my sister and I.""You have a sister?""Forget I said anything."





	1. Clouds Rolling In

**Author's Note:**

> We're picking up right after the Barcelona GPF. Which means Viktor is trying to get himself ready for Russian Nationals in roughly two weeks. It's not nearly enough time and everyone knows it. We will pass into Nationals and then probably Europeans/4 Continents and then Worlds.
> 
> Also! I'm pretty much creating my own semi-compliant timeline because in the real world Sochi's GPF was in the 2012/2013 season. ... But Barcelona wasn't until the 2014/2015 season. ... It was also the location for the 2015/2016 GPF. If you want to read the whole ramble about this you can go to the tumblr post about it [here](https://aerislei.tumblr.com/post/162947318318/yuri-on-ice-timeline-ramble). It adds in the olympics elements as well because Viktor is hinted to have participated (in at least two - Turin and Sochi) and I wanted to make sure that was vaguely possible. But the results are that I'm placing Sochi GPF in the 2015/2016 season and Barcelona in the 2016/2017 season. Which means we're picking up in late December of 2016. Feel free to weigh in either in comments on the tumblr post or here on the story, I'm not above adjusting the timeline if someone has information that I'm missing. 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy the story, but I ask for a little bit of patience as we progress - this first chapter sets up for what's going to happen going forward. Tags may be updated as things get going and I figure out the extent of things. If you notice a tag I'm missing feel free to kick me. 
> 
> I also headcanon Viktor's poor memory as a result of dissociating all the time... in the sense that he has spent so much energy trying not to remember certain things that his brain just sort of dumps things. I actually have a friend who has this issue due to childhood trauma.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit slow, sorry ><
> 
> But it's important stuff to set up, really. So I'm not that sorry. I could have made it a bit longer, but tbh the cut off point was good incentive for me to keep going.

_**Four Years ago - 2012.** _

"Please?" The question came out a throaty purr.  
Viktor couldn't help rolling his eyes slightly at the Swiss man who was laying half in his lap. "Fine, fine."  
"Yes!"  
"Wait are you recording?" Huffed.  
"Of course! I don't know when I'll convince you to sing it for me again."  
"If this ends up on social media I will personally murder you Chris." Viktor grumbled.  
"It won't I promise. It's just for me." At that the Russian dipped his head to kiss the younger man's forehead before sitting back again.

Viktor sang, though he still didn't know why Chris wanted him to. The song in question was in Russian, it was a lullaby. The melody was sweet, he supposed - but the words were childish, and he felt somewhat silly saying them, even knowing that Chris wouldn't understand him. Despite feeling foolish, Viktor made a point to keep his voice light and airy, as his mother always had. And if storm clouds gathered in his blue eyes, well, Viktor was certainly doing his best to ignore the emotions they signified. They didn't matter, and it was just a stupid song so Chris would stop pestering him.

It had all started when Chris over heard him singing in the shower one morning. It turned out that the younger skater liked his voice. Why Viktor would never know. But he hoped that this would be the end of this particular fixation. It was cute in some ways and frustrating in others. Mostly, he supposed, because Chris didn't really understand what he was asking in so many ways. It was better that way, but it didn't change matters.

It wasn't long before he'd finished, voice trailing off while he waited for Chris to turn off the recording. "Are you happy now?"  
Chris' hazel eyes darkened slightly. "I wouldn't have pushed if you'd just told me it would upset you."  
"I'm not upset." The words came out sharp and cold.

That was what he said, what he always said. Chris couldn't help but resent the words - they'd been friends for years, and lovers for the past several months. And this was still what he got - shut out as soon as things got hard.

* * *

"Why do you have this?" Chris found himself asking, holding a book that was clearly for young children in his hands. It was a question he probably shouldn't have asked, but Viktor had given him permission to pursue the novels on the shelf - some were in English and others were in French, there was plenty he could read there, and this one had caught his attention, looking woefully out of place among the rest.

"It used to be a favorite of mine. My mother used to read it to my sister and I." It was a shockingly open answer. The words slipped out before Viktor had time to consider them. As he finished speaking though, his expression hardened, seeming to understand he'd said far more than he meant to. It was too much, too open, too close to the brittle spun glass reality that was his gravest secret. And as much as he loved Chris, he didn't dare let him see that broken, bleeding part of himself.

"You have a sister?" Chris asked, seeming surprised. Viktor never talked about his family.

"Forget I said anything." Flatly. Viktor had risen, and the moment was shattered. "I'm going down to the rink."  
"Viktor wait- we should talk about this."  
"There's nothing to talk about." The door shut behind him.

Chris waited up for him to return. Viktor didn't, at least not at any time that even vaguely resembled sane. It was nearly four am before the door opened again. Chris was worried and still in the living room, he had a book in his lap, but obviously wasn't really reading it. His attention was focused on the door, all too aware of the fact that Viktor wasn't back yet.

"Why are you still up?" Viktor sounded confused when he opened the door to find Chris still there, waiting for him.  
"Why were you still out?" Chris countered, temper rising just a hair, but the Swiss skater reined it in carefully. "You can't keep doing that Viktor, you're going to drive yourself into the ground."  
"I know my limits." Viktor retorted coldly. "I don't need you to tell them to me."

* * *

"Stop." Chris caught both of Viktor's hands in his, effectively ending the all-too-heady caresses. "We can't keep doing this."  
"Doing what?" Cerulean eyes held a challenge.  
"Pretending that having good sex is a substitute for actually talking about things."  
"There's nothing to talk about."  
Hazel eyes hardened. "But there is, Viktor." Chris sounded tired. "And every time I try to talk about it you either try to distract me with kisses or you storm out."  
"That should tell you something." Viktor's tone was like acid, anger rolling through it.

"We can't _go on_ like this Viktor. It's going to destroy us." Desperate, but still hopeful. If he could just make Viktor understand, then everything would be okay, right? Right. It would be, it had to be.  
"If that's how you feel maybe you should just go."  
"Viktor-" That chilly response hadn't been what Chris had expected, and the Swiss skater bit his lip hesitantly.

The Russian skater pushed away from him. "I'm going to take Makkachin out." Flatly, and then he was gone.

Chris sighed, watching him go. The door closed between them with a finality that Chris wasn't sure how to process. Viktor had never indicated that it might be best if he left before. Was he pushing too hard? Was he expecting too much?

* * *

It was a week later when Chris finally decided he couldn't handle it anymore. When he decided he was never going to get through to Viktor, at least not like this. And their relationship... it wasn't what he wanted, anymore. Honestly, Chris wondered if their friendship would survive the storming arguments they'd had over the last few months. He hoped so, for both of their sakes. Years of friendship, six months as lovers. They'd talked about this already, Viktor knew he was leaving today. It still made Chris feel like a bit of a coward to be packing while Viktor was still on the Rink with Yakov.

Chris had held onto the hope that Viktor would circle around and talk to him in his own time. Chris had tried to be patient, tried to be available. It wasn't enough. And he was starting to realize that it never would be.

He read over the note one last time before setting it on the counter. Viktor was late, and he couldn't wait any longer. If he did, he'd miss his flight.

_Vitya,  
_

I don't know if you'll read this, or if you're just going to toss it in the trash when you see it. I hope you'll read it. I hope you really understand why I'm leaving too. Or at least, that you understand eventually. I do still care about you, so you know. But this isn't working, not for either of us anymore. It's like I said, we can't go on like this, not if we want our friendship to survive this.

I hope one day you look up and understand what went wrong. I really, really hope you do. Not for the sake of us dating, or gloating, but for the sake of a future relationship for you. For the sake of your mental health, even. Talking about things is important, and you can't keep everything locked away forever behind a wall. It's not good for your relationships, and it's not good for you, either. I know you're lonely despite being surrounded by people, and that's not going to change while you keep walling everyone out.

I'd like for us to still be friends. When you're up for that, at least, text me. I'll always answer you. I wish you all the best, Viktor. This isn't goodbye, it's just slipping back into the roles we have to play. I was going to have to go home soon anyway, if I want to compete this coming season.

 _\-- Love,_  
_Chris_

Viktor considered throwing away the letter when he'd found it. In the end, that didn't happen. Instead it ended up tucked away - one more thing to add to a pile of regrets.

* * *

_**Present - December 2016, post Barcelona Grand Prix Finals.  
** _

The banquet was far more tame this year. Enough so that Viktor would have probably been bored if he had been there with anyone but Yuuri - but with Yuuri there it was interesting enough to tolerate the patient, polite behavior that was the expectation here. He was bored, he wanted to go back to the hotel already. He wanted to have a real conversation with Yuuri, he wanted Yakov to stop watching him with those knowing eyes. _We don't always get what we want, Vitya._ Yakov's words to him when he'd been fourteen came back to him, unbidden. He flinched even though they rattled within his own head. Now was not the time to think about that day.

Yuuri looked up at him, frowning. "That bored?"  
"Yeah, actually." He admitted mildly. Though Viktor felt the slightest bit guilty, because it wasn't entirely the truth.  
"Well, Yakov keeps looking over here like he wants to talk, so maybe we go over there and see what he wants and then go back upstairs? It's pretty much over anyway."

Viktor could tell from Yuuri's tone that he was looking for an out himself, so Viktor nodded. "Sounds good."

"Two weeks Vitya." Yakov's words bubble without preamble. Viktor isn't surprised, he'd been expecting as much. And Yakov never did mince words. "Two weeks, are you sure about trying to compete in Nationals? It's not nearly enough time. Even for you. No, _especially_ for you." That was a thinly veiled remark on Viktor's age, and all three of them knew it.

No one but Yuuri is close enough to hear the discussion. Even his rinkmates were scattered in the room, or had already returned to their rooms. It was for the best, he supposed. Viktor sighed. "I'm sure." He repeated, firmly. "It'll be fine. It's Nationals, not worlds. I have time."  
"Vitya and eight month break is not something that is easy to come back from." In a warning tone. "I told you this when you left Russia. I told you if you left then you could never come back."  
"I know what you said. I also know you're wrong."  
"And in the middle of the boy's season." One hand tossed slightly, and Viktor could see the irritating rising in his coach. "He still has his own nationals and four continents and worlds."  
"Yes, Yakov, I know that."  
"When you told me at the rink you wanted to come back, I didn't think you were seriously going to try to be a coach and a skater." Tersely. "It's too much, Vitya!" Hissed - Yakov was making an effort to keep his voice down. Viktor was impressed, actually. "Why don't you ever think anything through?"

 _That's where you're wrong, for once. I am thinking this through._ Even so, he raised one hand slightly to cut Yakov off before he could continue. "Can we please have this conversation tomorrow?" Viktor's tone was unfailingly polite. "Yuuri and I are tired, and I'd like to discuss a few options with him before going over them with you."

 "Fine, have it your way." Yakov waved him off dismissively.

"You look happy together." Viktor looked up in surprise at the throaty purr that was Christophe's voice. He smiled at the Swiss skater after a mere heartbeat.  
"We are happy together." Was the lightly spoken response.

There was the slightest hint of tension in the air - or was that just him? It was probably just him, overreacting as always. Wasn't that what Chris had told him once? "I wish you both the best." Chris' voice was nothing but earnest. "Though I'm disappointed there was no dancing this year." The hazel eyed skater was almost pouting, and Viktor rolled his eyes. Their friendship had survived their relationship, somehow. But there were no longer any illusions between them about how close they really were. Viktor almost missed those illusions. The illusion of having someone beside him instead of someone politely distancing themselves from him.

Yuuri, of course, had turned scarlet. Yuuri, his Yuuri. They were happy together, but the incident in the hotel room the night before the free skate was still in his mind. Would it ultimately be as bad as Christophe? Mm. But for now, the illusion was intact- enhanced, really, by the fact that Yuuri had been so insistent about wanting _him._ As he was, not wanting some persona put forward to please the other skater. It was a strange sentiment, one Viktor hardly believed or understood. No one wanted the real him, and eventually Yuuri would understand the full depth of what _the real him_ was, and Yuuri would go home.

But he'd enjoy the time he was given - stolen minutes, stolen months.

They'd returned to the hotel room, finally.

Yuuri took a deep breath. "I guess this is the part where we hammer out what we're going to tell Yakov tomorrow?"  
"Mm. If you aren't too tired, yes." Mildly. "If you are I'll put him off until later afternoon and we'll talk early."  
"No. I want to talk about this now." Yuuri sounded surprisingly certain of himself.

"The only real way for this to work is if I go to nationals by myself and you stay in Russia." Yuuri said after a few moments, having pulled out his phone and started marking out dates on it to help him visualize what was going to happen. "So, you and I go back to Hasetsu after this, you pack what you'll fly out with and we make arrangements to ship back the rest. Then you fly back to Saint Petersburg to let Yakov finish whatever you can manage prior to Nationals. And... then I fly in after Japanese nationals." They'd already decided they had to do this in Russia if they were going to do this at all.

"I don't like the idea of you going to Nationals by yourself." Viktor admitted, mildly.  
"I'm sure if I asked Yuuko could come with me, or Minako-sensei." Yuuri paused for a short moment. "Other than that though you don't have a choice if you want to skate in Russian nationals, there's too much overlap."  
Viktor's expression made it clear that while he conceded Yuuri was right, it didn't mean he had to like it.  
Yuuri shrugged a little. "Four Continents and Europeans are far enough apart we can both be present at each." And they would compete against each other at Worlds, if all went well. But those words went unspoken.

"I guess one competition isn't the end of the world." Carefully, from Viktor.   
"No, it's not." Yuuri agreed, mildly. And privately he thought it was a small price to pay for them to get to stay together.

"And since we have rink access at Hasetsu you can work on what you'll need for your debut."  
Viktor nodded a little. "Yakov will be pleased if I come in with something worked out." He admitted mildly.  
"Of course he will." Though Yuuri's tone was mild, he was biting at his lip slightly.  
"What's wrong?"  
"What if he's right? Two weeks is such a short time Viktor..."  
"I'll manage." Viktor's tone was firm but gentle. "I know what I'm capable of, Yuuri. Worry about your own competition, alright?"  
But two weeks? Yuuri didn't continue that thread. "Alright."  
"On second thought, don't worry about Nationals." Letting his long fingers brush against Yuuri's jaw. "You'll do fine."  
"R-Right." There was a slight flush across his cheeks. 

* * *

"Well, let us see how terrible Nationals is going to be." Yakov sounded sour as he motioned for the silver haired skater to step onto the ice. 

Viktor took to the ice without a word, without his typical complaints or grumbles. There was no time for that - and there was no point, really. Besides, the sooner he pleased Yakov in proving his conditioning hadn't entirely failed, the sooner he could go back to choreographing the programs that he'd be using for nationals.

"It's nice to see something light a fire under your tail." It was Mila calling out from the sidelines. Viktor twirled slightly, not coming to a stop before her, but hesitating long enough for the younger skater to see him roll his eyes.  
"What can I say? I was bored." It was the truth, but it was also much too shallow.

Viktor skated away from the edge, pushing himself through a step sequence from an old program - Violet Fairy - and then skipping into a series of combination jumps without waiting for Yakov to dictate what he wanted to see. It was an hour before Yakov called him off the ice. They spoke in quiet voices while Viktor sipped on water and Mila went through her own program while the ice was empty.

"You haven't slipped as much as I feared." Yakov admitted, finally. "But that doesn't mean this will be easy."  
"Nothing ever is, is it?" Viktor sounded almost amused as he slipped back out onto the ice. There wasn't time, really, to have a whole piece composed for him, so he'd have to work with something pre-recorded. That was alright though, it certainly wouldn't be the end of the world.

And miles away in Japan, Yuuri got a text containing a picture that he couldn't immediately make sense of, but it left him incredibly uneasy.


	2. Whispers and Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri isn't sure what to make of the strange pictures he's being texted, and concentrates on making plans to surprise Viktor at nationals.

_** Past - Various ** ** Years ** _

“ You should ask Coach Yakov if he’ll help you compete. You’re almost as good as I am.” Insistent, but hopeful.  
“ I don’t think отец will like it very much if we both do this.” Cautious, almost fearful.  
“ Tss. Who cares what he likes?” Silence, for a moment. “Let’s… let’s skate through it one more time.”   
_With a nod, the girl skated off with him and they worked their way through the choreography again._

“ No, no. Stop. Do it like this, it’s worth more points that way. … And prettier.”  
“ But Coach Yakov said I should do it the other way.”  
“ He doesn’t want you to fall.” The airy voice responded with a light shrug. “So show him you won’t.”   
_With a look of grim determination the boy skated it the other way._

“ Are you sure you don’t want to compete? You’ll be coming anyway to watch me. It’d be fun!”  
“ Well… maybe.” Uncertain, but hopeful. “Do you really think Yakov would let me?”  
“ There’s only one way to find out!”  
“ But отец….”  
“ It’s not like he’ll bother watching the competition.” The words were strangely bitter. “Besides, if he had to choose between us I’m sure he’d rather it was you skating than me.”   
_She hugged him, and nothing more was said. But then, nothing else had to be._

“ I wish they’d stop arguing.”  
“ Me too.” Her expression was quiet, knowing. Wordlessly she offered him his headphones.  
He shook his head tersely. “Do you think we could slip out?”  
She pursed her lips slightly and then nodded. “Come on.”  
“ Where are we going?”  
“ I still have some of the money тетка sent me.” Carefully. “I thought we’d do something fun.”  
“ An ice skating rink?” He sounded less than impressed.   
_It would be during one of those excursions, the ones not condoned by their parents that he would catch the eye of a real coach. The rest would be history._

“ No quads.”  
“ It wasn’t that long ago you were insisting I go against Coach’s orders.” Bemused.  
“ This is different. Quads could wreck you if you do them too soon. Too much strain on still-forming joints. Please, Vitaya.”   
_In the end it was her quiet plea that made him obey Yakov’s request - at least most of the time._

“ Aren’t we going back to get Stasia?”  
“ No. She’ll stay with your отец.”  
“ You can’t leave her with him.” The voice was strangled. “She belongs with us, with me. You can’t do this.”  
“ We’re not going back to that place.”  
“ You can’t just _abandon_ her! She’s your daughter too.”  
“ Sometimes all you can do is save yourself. You’ll understand one day. You’ll thank me.”  
“ I’ll never forgive you for this.” He spat before storming off and slamming the door behind him.   


* * *

Yuuri sat rinkside at Ice Castle, half watching Yuuko work with the triplets, teaching them the basics of skating. He’d been helping before, but had ended up gracefully bowing out in order to have a brief conversation with Viktor. … He felt guilty, for some reason, for not mentioning the odd picture texted to him the day before. Still, he didn’t want to give Viktor anything to think about before Russian Nationals. 

The Japanese skater could have gone ahead and returned to the ice by that point, but found himself studying the picture again in spite of himself.

She was turned away from the camera, and wearing a solid black outfit that Yuuri could tell had been designed after Viktor’s competition costume - the one Yuuri had borrowed, the one Viktor had worn at sixteen. The body was most certainly feminine, with flared hips and a slender waist. The woman, whoever she was, was echoing the ending pose of Viktor’s skate that year - so all the little similarities had to be intentional. Her hair was silver and probably just passed her waist when loose - in the image it was braided instead of being held in a ponytail.

None of that answered why he had the picture to begin with. There was no hint to explain who had sent the picture or what they (she?) intended to accomplish. It was probably a fan, Yuuri reasoned, but it didn’t really explain how they’d gotten his number or why it was sent to him instead of Viktor. Given emulating him, she was obviously one of _his_ fans.

Ultimately he’d convinced himself to ignore the picture. It wasn’t racy or anything that weird, so whatever. It was strange, sure, but fans did odd things all the time. 

Really though, Yuuri knew he was probably projecting his anxiety about Nationals and the move to St Petersburg on completely innocent things. At least, that was what he was going to convince himself of, because it was safer than dwelling on this.

He ended up spending another hour on the ice with the girls while Yuuko went back to the front of the rink. Afterward he went for a jog along the beach. He was already missing Viktor, and he knew that was kind of sad, really. They had only been apart for a few days at this point, and they’d just talked on the phone for a little while.

Yuuri spent a few hours helping out at Yutopia before returning to the rink. He skated solo for a long time, thankful for the peace. After running through both his short and free programs, Yuuri allowed himself to experiment.

It started with an accident - an embarrassing over-rotation on his triple axel. And then he heard Yuuko gasp.

“ Oh my gosh, Yuuri! Yuuri! You were half a turn off of a quad axel!”  
“ ... Was I?” He seemed surprised to hear it.  
“ Yes! And it was so cool!”

Yuuri’s expression turned pensive as he skated away from the edge again, concentrating this time on speeding up as he went into the triple axel. Another over-rotation, but not quite enough. He pushed himself into repeating the jump, intent on getting as close as he could. He made a slight noise in the back of his throat and did it again, pushing himself even faster, keeping his limbs even tighter. 

He fell, first his hand touched the ice, and then his whole form pitched over, landing on the ice.  
“ You had enough rotations that time.” Yuuko called out, obviously thrilled despite his spill on the ice.  
“ That’s great, now I just need to keep my feet under me.”  
“ This is so exciting Yuuri! No one’s ever landed it in competition.”

And Yuuri could see why, given how much work it had been just to get enough rotations, without even considering what it would take to stay on his feet. Again, now that had a feel for what the approach had to look like he got in enough rotations, but he fell onto the ice again. Yuuri swore under his breath and tried again.

“Yuuri…” Hesitant. “Maybe you should take a break.”

She was right, unfortunately. He tried one last time, and knew immediately that he didn’t manage the rotations. Alright. Huff. The Japanese skater pushed himself to the rink edge and slid his guards on so he could get some water.

* * *

Days passed in a blur - before he knew it he’d packed everything he was taking to St Petersburg with him, and had made arrangements for non-essentials to be shipped ahead of nationals. Viktor had asked him to do that, and had promised that it wouldn’t interfere with his practices or distract him. Yuuri had obliged, because he knew that to Viktor having the boxes come in would be a tangible reminder that Yuuri really had agreed to come and a promise that he wouldn’t go back on that.

Yuuri knew with his own anxiety he would like that sort of a reminder, that sort of promise. The Japanese man didn’t pretend Viktor had the same anxieties, but he’d lived with the somewhat Extra Russian for long enough to know that he did indeed have some of his own. It was nice, actually, starting to see Viktor as a person rather than just as his idol. Being reminded that Viktor was human and he made mistakes and that as confident as he seemed, in the end he was still a guy who had been alone probably way too long.

Shipping so much ahead of time had the bonus of meaning that he could theoretically leave straight from Nationals to Russia. And… He may have been planning something with Yakov that neither of them were sharing with Viktor. Yuuri was going to send one last box the day he left for Nationals, in it the very last few things he’d want to bring with him, the things he used regularly but wouldn’t need at competition - Viktor’s neighbor had politely agreed to take care of any packages that arrived after Viktor left for his own competitions.

What it meant was that Yuuri really _was_ going to fly from his Nationals straight to Russia - specifically to Chelyabinsk where Nationals was being held. He’d arrive in time to see Viktor’s free skate live. … And he fully intended to surprise the older Russian skater with that fact. Yuri had been surprisingly obliging in giving him Yakov’s number and telling Yuuri when office hours were that he _wouldn’t_ be busy working with one of the other skaters. It meant that he’d already worked everything out with Yakov, who would ensure that all it would take was his id to get him rinkside access at Chelyabinsk. 

And the only price had been that he didn’t tell Viktor ahead of time because it would distract him. Which suited Yuuri fine - he wanted to surprise Viktor anyway. It was even better because the Men’s free skate was on Christmas day - Viktor’s birthday.

Yes, he thought turning up rinkside to meet him after his free skate would be sufficiently surprising, would be sufficient to make up for not really getting him something for his birthday. The rings didn’t count - they’d been gotten early, and besides that they were something else entirely.  _ Engaged.  _ That hadn’t been his initial plan, truly, but Yuuri hadn’t found it in him to reject the claim, either. At first he’d thought Viktor was going along with it to tease him, or to amuse the other skaters, but it hadn’t taken him that long to realize that no, Viktor had been serious.

It was thrilling and terrifying. It had been just over eight months that they’d really known each other, by then. And somehow this was what had happened - Yuuri couldn’t find it in himself to mind. Sure, it was fast, maybe too fast, but it was  _ Viktor  _ and if those months had proven anything it was that despite all his flaws, Yuuri really did love Viktor. He loved  _ Viktor  _ not just the flat, beautiful image of him in posters and projected by the media. 

Maybe eight months wasn’t supposed to be long enough to know that for sure - but Yuuri was as sure of this as he had ever been of anything.

“ Are you sure you don’t want me to come to nationals with you?” It was Mari who was asking.  
“ I’m sure.” Yuuri responded with a distracted half smile. “I’d hate for you to have to come back by yourself.”  
“ I don’t want you to turn yourself into an anxious wreck, Yuuri.”  
“ I’ll be fine.” The dismissive hand gesture was playful, they both knew.  
“ It’s weird to think you’re really going away this time.”  
“ We’ll visit in off seasons.” Yuuri said, a reflexive promise. They’d been over that already. Eventually they’d probably buy a house here too, so they had a base in both countries.  
“ I wouldn’t be so worried if you were just moving with him as your coach.”

There, she’d said it. Had said what it was that was different about this move than the one to Detroit. “Me neither.” Yuuri responded, and he could tell it wasn’t what she’d expected. “But I have to live sometime, yeah? … I’ll never know if I don’t try.”

“Just be careful.” Was what she finally said before slipping out of the room to leave him with his thoughts.

Yuuri’s thoughts were distracted by his phone going off - but after mentally ascertaining that it wasn’t the right tone for the text to have come from Viktor or Phichit he dismissed it. Whatever it was could wait until later.

Instead he finished taping off this last box and then slipped out of the room, intent on helping in the kitchen, since things were a little busier than they had been lately. 

* * *

“The Piggy didn’t completely blow his short program just because you aren’t there, did he?”  
Viktor rolled his eyes at Yuri’s slightly insulting question. “No, he’s going into the free program in second place.”  
“That’s not fucking terrible.”  
“Behind Yuzuru Hanyu.” His tone was thoughtful, and he didn’t bother to chide Yuri for his language. “Anyway, unless he completely butchers his program he’s going to medal today.”  
“Good, maybe you’ll be able to focus on your short program this afternoon.” Yakov cut in. “Speaking of, you should _both_ be participating in the public warm up. Go.”

Short Program this afternoon, then tomorrow was a free day, since Juniors were skating that day. If all went well he’d have the exhibition stream to watch when he got up - but it would already be over. Yuuri said he had a lot going on so he might not be able to do more than text, which was kind of disappointing - but Viktor understood. And then he had his free skate the next day.

Soon, soon they’d be together again. And he’d get to show Yuuri his world - or, at least, his home city. It was an exhilarating thought - knowing that already in his apartment were several boxes full of reminders that Yuuri really was going to come to Russia with him despite the initial hesitation over their somewhat unique position.

It was going to be a long day, Viktor knew. The public warm up was a formality, skating around with his fellow competitors and loosening up his muscles for the day. But, it also gave the media and the crowd a chance to see how they were doing that day - as if warm ups dictated how a skater was going to do during their real programs.

Viktor kept his warm up relatively tame - nothing harder than a double jump. Instead he concentrated on his spins and step sequences. It was a deliberate choice to spare his stamina. It would also leave the crowd wondering what it was Viktor had planned for his program, since he hadn’t actually revealed it publicly yet. 

“ Strangely light warm up for you.” Yakov commented as Viktor stepped off the ice.  
The Russian skater merely shrugged at his coach. “It was enough.”

Yuri’s warmup had been far more adventurous, but it served them well. The crowd was certainly going to have a treat watching the two of them compete directly for the first time. Viktor had to admit that he looked forward to the challenge in a way he hadn’t in a very long time.

* * *

The night before Yuuri had left for nationals he’d ended up getting another picture of the strange girl. This one was a profile shot, though her face was turned in such a way that the camera didn’t capture it properly. This picture also featured that same costume -- though her pose was different, this time she was posed as if she were going into something in the Biellmann position. By that alone it was clear that the girl, whoever she was, either had skating or ballet experience - perhaps both. Her hair was loose, silver hands spilling down her back and across her shoulders in an uncontrolled sort of way - giving an illusion of movement even in the utterly still image.

In the days since the image had pulled at the edge of Yuuri’s mind, making him curious - again he found himself wondering who she was and why the pictures were being sent to him. There was also the fact that it was strange for another reason entirely - where had this person gotten his phone number from, anyway? It wasn’t linked to any of this public accounts, and he’d taken great pains to keep it a private number.

He didn’t have long to worry though, given he was just waiting for his turn. He was going to finish his exhibition here and then he had a flight to Russia to board.

Yuuri had made a strange selection for his exhibition skate, he knew, but he looked forward to the reaction to it. He was going to skate a portion of  _ Waltz, Tempo di valse _ . It was not a piece male skaters bothered with often, for obvious reasons. But Yuuri had only rarely considered that in his choices before. 

“And taking the ice for our final Exhibition of the senior division is gold medalist Katsuki Yuuri! This season has been a good one for Katsuki, one of his best since joining the senior division. I think I can speak for everyone when I say that we truly look forward to seeing what Four Continents brings us. Yuuri is going to skate _Waltz, Tempo di Valse_ from the First Act of Swan Lake for us this afternoon. The piece was choreographed by the skater himself with help from his ballet instructor Okukawa Minako.”

As the announcer spoke to the crowd Yuuri skated half a circuit around the darkened rink before gliding into the center of the ice and taking his position. The music started, and Yuuri glided through the program. There were very few jumps in this program - instead he’d concentrated on looping spirals and careful spins. And, of course, his step sequences. There was _a lot_ of ballet influence in this piece, and he’d taken a few risks with some of the forms he chose because they were mostly used by women _for a reason._ And even Yuuri didn’t have all the flexibility he’d once had. Still his Arabesque spiral was almost perfect, and the crowd's reaction made it clear that the risk was totally worth it.

His upright Biellmann spin wasn’t perfect, but it didn’t have to be - it elicited the right reaction despite the slight lack of form caused by him not being able to hold the position as long as he’d wanted to. No matter, he just released the Biellmann and steadied himself into a camel spin.

The music died around him as he stilled into his final position. Someone with a good eye would see his feet had stilled in a close approximation of the third standard position in ballet - his arms in a standard grande pose. He held that position, with his head tilted just slightly back so that he gazed upward. He counted time in his head, holding the position for precisely thirty seconds before dropping his arms and skating towards the rink exit. 

By the time Viktor saw the stream he’d already be on the way to  Chelyabinsk, though it was an extremely long flight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The little snippets of dialog at the top of the chapter are not in chronological order. They are _meant_ to be slightly disjointed, but I think if read carefully enough they provide some interesting hints. 
> 
> отец - Father  
> тетка - Aunt


	3. Spun Glass and Cold Iron

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri joins Viktor at Chelyabinsk for his free program and the Gala - surprising Viktor as he'd hoped to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I totally forgot to save this and lost my first attempt at this chapter. First time I've had my browser crash quite that spectacularly. 
> 
> Anyway, on a serious note, the first 2 scenes of this chapter involve references to child abuse, so if this is something that you are going to be sensitive to and would rather not read skip down passed the first two scene breaks. (It will literally say End Trigger Warning and continue reading from there. It's kind of important? But as long as you remember that it exists, then you'll be able to keep up with the story.

_**Past - Various Dates, Viktor is 14  
** _

The girl hissed in pain when the boy's hand came down on her shoulder. Immediately he pulled his hand back, expression darkening. Cerulean eyes swirled with fear and pain and more than a little anger. Those eyes looked entirely out of place on his young face. Eyes that had seen too much for his few years. Eyes that he saw mirrored in the girl's face. "He hit you again." It wasn't a question, it didn't need to be. They both knew the answer.  
"It was my fault anyway. I should know better than to goad him by now."  
"He's the adult. He should have better control of his temper."

"Maybe we should tell Coach Yakov..."  
"No. We can't, Vitaya. We can't tell him. ... We can't _trust_ him." Softly, entreating.  
He frowned. "Stasia, I think maybe... we can."  
"He's an adult." She said airily, as if that explained everything. "He can't be trusted. Besides, he's so temperamental."  
She wasn't wrong about that, but Viktor thought maybe... just maybe it would be better to tell him. It couldn't possibly be worse, could it?

"Nikiforov!"  
"Yes sir...?"  
"Where did those bruises come from?"  
For a moment, Viktor froze. "Falling on the ice, Coach." He managed, smoothly. "You know, yesterday, when I was trying to get the double flip down?"  
Yakov didn't look entirely convinced, but he nodded, reluctantly. "You know you can tell me anything, right?"  
"Of course I do." Viktor flashed a blinding smile - one of his best. "But there's nothing to tell you."  
That was all well and good, but both of them knew that the ice didn't leave hand print shaped bruises.

"Maybe... maybe you're right, Vitaya." Stasia's voice was a fragile whisper in the dim light of their room.  
"About what?"  
"Maybe we should tell your coach tomorrow at practice. We can't go on like this."  
"Tomorrow." Viktor agreed, firmly.

But tomorrow wouldn't come soon enough for either of them. It was only a few hours later when disaster struck.  
"VITAYA!" Her scream shattered the awful silence that followed the crash of breaking glass.  
She twisted, yanking her arm out of the too-tight grasp of their father. She shoved against his unsteady form, pushing him off, away from her. He half stumbled, laughing.  
"You can't help him now."  
She ignored him, bolting for the front door, not daring to approach the window that Viktor had fallen through.  
She just hoped he was okay. She couldn't lose him like this.

"Where is she? Where's Anastasia?" Cerulean eyes locked onto Yakov's - a desperation in them.  
Yakov sighed and shook his head just slightly.  
"Will I be able to skate again?"  
"The doctors think so." Yakov answered after a moment. "Rest now, Vitya."  
"I want to see my sister."  
"She's not here." Calmly, regretfully. "Rest a little now, your mother will be back soon."

"You just left her there!?" The boy had forced himself into a sitting position in the bed, pulling at some of the various tubes and monitors that were connected to him as he did so. His eyes flashed an icy blue, filled with rage as he focused on the woman.  
"Vitya, please. Lay back down. You aren't well."  
"I don't want to lie down, I want to see my sister!" He snapped back coldly.  
"We don't always get what we want, Viktor." Her voice was calm, lacking much of the emotional depth that one would expect.

* * *

 Lime green eyes studied the boy in a critical fashion. There was too much tension in his body - each movement was too harsh. He wasn't _flowing_ but was instead moving a bit like a marionette - he jerked through the poses rather than taking them. He didn't dance so much as jump from one stance to the next. It wasn't like her Viktor at all - and it simply wouldn't do. "Enough." Her tone was firm.  
"But I'm not finished."  
"I said enough." She repeated in a cool tone. "You're not getting anywhere like this."  
"But-"  
"It won't serve anyone for you to keep going like this and ultimately hurt yourself with your misplaced anger."  
"It's _not_ misplaced." He growled, rage flaring up suddenly in his eyes.

Ah. Lilia had to remind herself not to react to the anger with her own temper. It would solve nothing, and while she did not tolerate disrespect, she had intentionally goaded him forward. "But it is. Taking your anger at whoever else out on your own body is not handling it properly." She paused, as if waiting for Viktor to speak - but the teenager didn't. "Now, you can either continue having a temper tantrum, or you can come with me."  
"I don't want to go home." Tersely.  
"I'm not sending you home, Viktor." She paused for a heartbeat at the door to the studio, to see if he was going to follow - he did, so she led the way to her office.

The boy threw himself into a chair while she busied herself making tea. "That's not really what I meant." Viktor said finally, after spending a few moments watching her.  
"Then what did you mean?" Lilia prompted. She was not particularly skilled at dealing with teenagers and their emotional ups and downs. And she was woefully under-informed about whatever had been going on in Viktor's life that had kept him from the studio and rink. All Yakov had told her was that Viktor had been injured. ... It was hard to say if that was because he didn't know more himself or because Viktor had asked him not to tell. Still, she would make an effort - the boy clearly needed to talk, and Yakov was busy with one of his rinkmates.

"I mean I don't want to go home. I don't want to see my mother again." Viktor started after only a moment of silence. "I hate her. I hate that she's acting like I should just pick myself up and move on after what happened. Like abandoning Stasia was the right thing to do just because of what happened. Like I should be happy that she chose to do this, like it was the only way to 'save' me." The words tumbled forward. "But I lost my _sister._ The one person who ever really understood me. The one person who always supported my choices and always stood beside me." Viktor shook his head slightly. "That monster almost killed me, and she left my sister with him. And I'm never going to forgive her for it."

* * *

  **End Trigger Warning**

**Present Day  
**

"Are you seriously watching katsudon's exhibition again?" Yuri sounded somewhere between disgusted and exasperated.  
"Of course I am. I hadn't seen this program before. I can't believe he put together a whole new program in the two weeks we were apart."  
"Would you just finish getting ready so we can go? Yakov is going to have our heads if we're late for warm ups."  
"No one said you had to hang back with me. ... This isn't even _your_ hotel room." Viktor pointed out in a slightly amused tone of voice.

Despite this, Viktor did actually make an effort to finish getting ready - he was dressed as it was, and it didn't take long to pull his jacket on over the costume and take care of his hair. Viktor was more than a little disappointed that Yuuri hadn't texted at all - the last message had been 'good night (and good luck tomorrow). And even though Viktor had been warned Yuuri would be busy, he'd expected just a little more. Ah well. Nationals would be over soon enough.

"I wonder if Lilia would appreciate the piece."  
"Does she appreciate anything?"  
"Asks the boy who has become her pride and joy?" Viktor sounded amused.  
Yuri glared, slightly.

"No, I'm serious. ... Are you really that bad at reading her, Yura?" He frowned, a hair. "She's a bit like Yakov, stern and all sharp edges on the outside. But she has a softer inside. And she does care about you."  
"Oh what would you know?" Yuri snapped as they left the hotel room.  
"Mm. You seem to forget that she was Yakov's wife once." Viktor's voice had gone quiet, mostly. "I took ballet with her once upon a time. ... You didn't think I spent so long riding on my androgyny with Yakov's direction alone, did you?" His tone had turned light somewhere in there, though it was a forced lightness.

If Yuri noticed that though he didn't comment on it. Instead he just went to stand by the door, waiting for Viktor to join him so they could walk over to the rink and get this over with.

It didn't take them long to reach the rink. Yakov and Lilia were already there, having come over a bit earlier with Mila.  
"You two have fifteen minutes before warm ups start."  
Viktor nodded.  
"... Did you do your hair yourself, Yuri?" Lilia missed nothing, Viktor was reminded.

The blond shook his head. "Viktor did it."

It was, of course, not something that Viktor would have normally done - or something Yuri would have normally let him do. The style was a bit different than what Lilia had done with it so far. It kept the careful elegance of the previous style, with the braids at his temple. But the braids were used to create a bun and control the rest of his blond hair - confining it into a bun at the nape of his neck. It looked good - if slightly more feminine than the simpler braided style. On the other hand, it suited his free skate well.

"It looks good." There was an unspoken 'don't mess it up before your program'. "At least if you two dallied around you got something useful done."  
"You should watch this while nothing important is happening." Viktor handed Lilia his phone, and pushed play on it to reveal the introduction to Yuuri's exhibition.  
"Interesting choice of music." She was frowning a hair, but she didn't look up. It made sense, in Viktor's mind - she was curious, of course, about the skater who would be joining her dance studio. 

If Lilia had anything to say about the piece she didn't share it, merely handing him his phone back. Viktor, of course, tucked it into the pocket of his Olympic jacket before stepping out onto the ice for public warmups. He'd be skating last, with Yura directly proceeding him. Viktor was bored, and more than a little restless. Sure, he liked watching his competitors skate, but really he was more interested in the day being over.

Still, the day would be over soon enough, and hopefully Yuuri would text him before he had to take the ice. That'd be nice.

* * *

"Hello, Yuuri!" Mila's voice was bright, obviously quite cheerful.  
"Oh, uh, Hi." The Japanese skater fidgeted awkwardly under her gaze - but she grinned.  
"It's great to see you! I really look forward to training along side you." Still smiling, of course. "Viktor's been going on all day about your exhibition - he apparently loved it, for the record."  
"That's... good to know." He turned slightly pink.  
Mila giggled. "Come on, you can put your bags in my room until we get back to the hotel later, just so you don't have to lug them around the rink. ... Unless you actually have your own room?"  
"No.. I don't. Yakov insisted that I not bother."  
She nodded, knowingly. "Come on then. We don't want to miss Viktor taking the ice~"

It was less than ten minutes before she led the way down toward the rink. "So, I actually have permission to be rinkside, which is helpful. ... Do you already have- oh you do. Good." Already had his badges, apparently. "And... That should be the sound of the skater before Yura leaving the ice, which means we have about five or six minutes before Viktor takes the ice."

Yuuri nodded a little, obviously not sure what she was getting at.

Mila arched an eyebrow. "Wow you're more tired than I thought." She giggled, realizing he hadn't picked up on it. "Which means you have a choice to make. Do you want to see Viktor before he takes the ice, or wait until you can surprise him in the kiss and cry?" At least she took pity on him and explained.  
"Oh, um."  
"For what it's worth, Viktor would probably be thrilled at the chance to hug you before he takes the ice."  
"I just don't want to distract him." Frowning a little.  
Mila rolled her eyes and grabbed him by the arm. "Come on, let's go rink side." Apparently having decided for him.

Viktor, as it turned out, had his back to the entrance that they'd come through, so Mila managed to lead Yuuri right up to Yakov's skaters without causing a scene, simply by motioning for the few people who saw them to keep quiet. She elbowed Yuuri in the ribs, hard, before skipping off to join one of the other female skaters.

Yuuri took the hint - thankfully. And in a streak of braveness he slipped up behind Viktor and draped his arms around the older skater where he was sitting, watching Yuri skate.  
Viktor made an annoyed sound, though a bit of playfulness colored his tone. "Mila honestly-" And then he froze. "You are not-" Viktor squirmed free of Yuuri's grip long enough to half turn on the bench to see him properly before making a decidedly pleased noise and hugging him. "What are you doing here!?" Viktor bubbled.

Yuuri laughed. "That expression was completely worth it." Yuuri announced, clearly pleased with himself.

"Yuuu~ri!"  
"I'm here to surprise you, obviously. I left right after the gala in Japan."  
"You got Yakov to agree to this?"  
"On the terms that I not tell you before I got here." Yuuri confirmed, amused. "But I had to get him on my side because I needed his help to get rinkside access."

They stayed like that for just a moment before Yuuri tugged Viktor upright. "Come on, Yuri's program is ending."

"Vitya, just skate like you have been in practice." Yakov didn't seem interested in any long lecture, at least not yet. "You would have to make some serious mistakes to miss the podium today."  
"I look forward to seeing you skate live." Yuuri murmured in a breathy whisper as Viktor shrugged off his jacket and handed it to Yuuri along with his guards.  
"Don't take your eyes off of me." Viktor responded with an easy smile.  
"How could I?" Yuuri retorted even as Yakov growled at Viktor to stop mooning over Yuuri. Wisely Viktor skated to the center of the rink.

Yuuri couldn't understand the announcer, who was of course speaking Russian. It didn't matter - the only thing that mattered was the man taking the ice in front of him. He leaned somewhat heavily against the rink edge, brown eyes watching the Russian skater intently. Two weeks, it had only been two weeks. And still, somehow watching Viktor skate left him utterly breathless. Yuuri wasn't sure if he would ever entirely get over how much he loved watching Viktor skate.

The program was over all too quickly, but Yuuri supposed they always were, sort of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vitaya, by the way, is a deliberate misspelling of Vitya. It should be pronounced something like Vi-tie-yah.
> 
> Next chapter! They have a chat at the kiss-and-cry and then go back to Viktor's hotel.
> 
> At some point Yuuri is getting cornered by the media about the Stay Close to Me performance, among other things, so stay tuned!

**Author's Note:**

> I'd love to hear what you think about the story! Comments and Kudos are love tbh, they help me know if I'm doing something right.


End file.
